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The first time Atsushi met Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, he was alone.
Kyouka would tell people the first time they met the Black Dog of the Armed Detective Agency was a week after the resurfacing of one Nakahara Chuuya. She was right, in a way - it was the first time she met him, and the first official time he met him. But, in his bones, Atsushi knows it’s not true. He had seen the look of recognition that had flashed through his eyes, felt the harsh glare pinning him down as they squared off in that alleyway. I trusted you, his eyes seemed to scream. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t look away. For once, his focus wasn’t entirely on Kyouka and her safety; it was on this boy, who, in a different lifetime, he could have been friends with.
He knows he’ll never forget their first meeting, not for as long as he lives.
1 YEAR AGO
Atsushi knows he shouldn’t be here.
The Armed Detective Agency is off-limits, Dazai said so. It’s dangerous. And they’re right, Atsushi knows, with four of the strongest ability users the Port Mafia has ever seen - plus some new recruits. Besides, he’s on his own, without Kyouka to back him up. If he gets caught, that would probably be the worst-case scenario for him. If word gets back to Dazai that he’s doing this, that would be even worse - a harsh punishment, plus the guilt that comes with Dazai’s disappointment.
But he just can’t help it.
The door slips open without so much as a creak. Not that it particularly matters, as Atsushi’s already confirmed the building is empty. The office is still and empty, but Atsushi doesn’t mind. He just wants to see what it is about this place that’s so much better than the Port Mafia. What it is that could have made Chuuya want to leave.
The office is… nothing special, really. Strange, green tiles make up the floor, and the single room is filled with desks. There’s a pile of boxes in a corner, and a weird, closed-off section with couches and a coffee table. Against the furthest wall, there’s a kitchenette, with a pile of dirty dishes sitting in the sink.
But Atsushi can see them here. Can almost picture Chuuya sitting at the desk with the dog figurine, typing away furiously as Q hangs off of the back of his chair, laughing. Kouyou would watch it all with a soft smile, sipping tea quietly. Atsushi never met Oda, but he could imagine him at another desk, working diligently, or coaxing Q away from Chuuya.
It’s such a soft, domestic scene. So different from their life in the Port Mafia. It makes his heart hurt.
There are more desks, though, more than just four. Atsushi frowns. He wonders just how many people work here, really. He realises, with a tinge of worry, just how little information the Port Mafia knows about the Detective Agency. Shouldn’t that be something of a bit more importance to them?
Well, he thinks, shaking his head, it’s not up to him to decide. It’s better to leave things like that to Ranpo, or better yet, Dazai. Dazai knows what they’re doing. They’re the strongest person Atsushi knows, after all, and the one he’d follow to the ends of the earth. Actually, what is he doing here? Dazai told him not to come here. How dare he disrespect his savior like this? He should leave. He should really, really leave. Quickly, he turns around, heading for the door-
His eyes catch on another. It looks like there’s a back room.
Dazai said no.
But he’s just so curious-
・・・
The back room is… an infirmary.
Not what Atsushi expected.
The same strange green floor, medical cabinets lining the walls. There’s a desk in one corner, with more shelves lining the space above it. He frowns slightly, approaching the cabinet on the far wall. Nine of the slots are labeled, but the rest are blank. His eyes widen as he realises - he recognises some of the names. Ozaki Kouyou. Oda Sakunosuke. Yumeno Kyuksaku, and…
Nakahara Chuuya.
His hand yanks it open quickly. Papers, papers, more papers. They look like medical records, from what Atsushi can tell. Nothing more, nothing personal. He sighs slightly, stepping back from the slot. Not what he was hoping for.
Slowly, his attention turns to the remaining slots. There are five more, and his lips tug into a slight smile. This may be useful. He’s sure Dazai would love to get information on the Armed Detective Agency members that were never a part of the Port Mafia.
Kajii Motojiro, Higuchi Ichiyo, Miyazawa Kenji, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Akutagawa Gin. He keeps the names fully in his mind, pulling the first drawer open. Actually, should he just steal all these papers? It would be easier, wouldn’t it? But wait - then the Agency would know somebody broke in. He can’t take them, so… Quickly, he yanks a phone out of his pocket. He needs to take pictures of everything.
“What on earth-?”
Oh, shit.
Atsushi spins around, shoving the phone deep into his pocket. A man stands there, mouth slightly agape. Black hair with tips dyed a strange white, gunmetal-grey eyes, a tan overcoat and a black turtleneck. His eyes bore into Atsushi’s, and he gets the strangest feeling he’s seen this man before.
Behind him, dark tendrils of matter begin to form, and the man’s stance changes into one of fighting. “Who are you?” He asks harshly. “What are you doing? Robbing us?”
Atsushi scoffs. “As if. This place has absolutely nothing worth my stealing.” He can feel the lie as he speaks it.
The man doesn’t respond. His eyes simply narrow. “You’re from the Port Mafia.” He says, finally. “Nakajima Atsushi. Chuuya-san told us to stay away from you.”
And the world comes crashing to a halt.
Chuuya-san… wants to stay away from me? But why would he want that? I’m his brother, I’m his friend, I’m the one who understands - he said that to me, he told me himself that - is this why he left? Is he sick of me? Does he hate me? I knew one day it would happen. I’m nothing special, and I couldn’t live up to his expectations. He hates me. He hates me, and he left me because of it. And now, he’s replaced me. This man is my replacement. Chuuya-san likes him more than me. He’s better than me, in Chuuya’s eyes. Stronger, better, more loved -
“Hey, woah.” The man’s voice draws him out of his mind. “Are you alright? Why are you crying?”
“Am I… crying?” A finger touches his cheek, and there it is - he’s really crying. “Are you happy, Chuuya-san? Are you finally satisfied? I’ll admit it. I’m miserable. Does that make you feel better? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Footsteps approach him, and before he knows what’s happening, the man is in front of him. “My name is Akutagawa.” He says quietly. “Why don’t you come with me? I’ll make you some tea.”
Numbly, Atsushi follows him. He doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but to be honest, he doesn’t really care. He’s tired. And tea sounds really, really nice right now.
He takes a seat on the couch, eyes following Akutagawa as he makes his way to the kitchenette. The office is entirely silent. Atsushi wonders why Akutagawa is back early. Actually, he wonders why he’s doing this. He knows Atsushi is from the Port Mafia, yet he’s still letting him stay and making him tea.
He’s… grateful. It’s a surprising emotion to feel. Atsushi’s only felt grateful to three people in his life.
“Akutagawa-san.” He calls out. The man in question turns around slightly. “Why have you not tried to kill me yet?”
Akutagawa cocks an eyebrow. “I think the real question is, why have you not tried to kill me?”
And dammit, it’s a good question. Atsushi wants to feel angry, to rage, to hurt, to kill. But Akutagawa is leaving him be, and making him tea, and speaking in a soft voice. He doesn’t remember the last time somebody did that for him.
Kyouka did it before she left on that mission, idiot. And Chuuya used to do it every weekend.
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Akutagawa returns, two cups of tea in his hands. Atsushi accepts his gratefully, starting to drink. It’s searing hot, but he’s not going to stop now.
“This is quite a funny situation.” Akutagawa says, breaking the silence. “Never in a million years did I expect to be sitting here with the White Reaper of the Port Mafia. You’re…” His eyes squint slightly, “Different than I expected.”
Atsushi chuckles. “What did you expect?”
He shrugs. “Somebody who would lash out with violence if I so much as said a word. Somebody who would make me quake in my boots.” He pauses, the slightest smirk on his face. “Somebody taller.”
“You’re barely taller than me,” He protests. “It must be your boots.”
Akutagawa blinks, Atsushi frowns. Then-
For the next three minutes, the Armed Detective Agency office is filled with laughter.
・・・
“-and so I told her, no way! You’re crazy if you think that I’m gonna throw a party for the anniversary of the first time you and Tanizaki-kun shared a chocolate milkshake!”
Akutagawa chuckles. “These Tanizaki siblings seem quite ridiculous. I’m glad Gin and I don’t act like that.”
“Yeah, they’re special.” Atsushi agrees. “Really…” His eyes widen. “Somebody’s coming.”
Akutagawa’s on his feet in an instant. “It must be Gin, Higuchi and Kenji. They were out on a job.” He whirls around, facing Atsushi. “You have to hide. You can’t be seen here.”
“No, I can’t.” Atsushi says, disappointment heavy in his voice. It was nice, just talking and drinking tea with Akutagawa. He’s… a strange person, but quite likeable. He hopes they’ll meet again. As doubtful as that would ever be.
Quickly, Akutagawa opens the broom closet, pushing things to the side. “In here, they won’t find you. Nobody ever looks in the broom closet.”
Atsushi finds this plan extremely bad and full of holes, but he supposes, there’s not much he can really do. Into the broom closet it is.
Once he’s inside, it is infinitely worse. The closet smells like old socks, he’s not sure what that wet thing touching his foot is and IS THAT A MOUSE??? He nearly screams, but manages to keep it in. His life - and Akutagawa’s reputation, he’s assuming - are riding on him staying silent.
“Ah, Akutagawa-senpai! You’re back already!” A girl’s cheerful voice says.
“Yes. And how many times have I told you to drop the senpai, Higuchi?” He replies.
“Ah, sorry, Akutagawa-senpai!” Higuchi says with a giggle.
“Glad to see you didn’t get hurt.” Another voice, softer and higher. “At least, I’m assuming you didn’t get hurt. Ryuu, please tell me you’re not hiding an injury.”
“I’m not, Gin. Don’t worry.”
So that’s Gin. Atsushi heard plenty about her in the hour he spent with Akutagawa.
“Hello, Akutagawa-san! How are you today? I’m great. The sun is shining brightly!” A third voice, this one belonging to what sounded like a kid.
A chuckle from Akutagawa. “I’m good, Kenji. I’m glad you’re doing well. The sun really is a motivation booster.”
“Alright, tea!” Higuchi says brightly. Atsushi hears the shuffle of footsteps, followed by silence. “Oh- Akutagawa-senpai, you already made some? And put it in… two cups?”
Oh, god. Please don’t catch us please don’t catch us please don’t-
“Yes. I made a cup for Ane-san, thinking she was in the back room, but she was not. So I drank them both myself.”
“You’re such a tea fanatic, Ryuu.” Gin sounds exasperated, but there’s a loving edge to her voice. It makes Atsushi smile.
“Well, I’ll make you some more!” Higuchi chirps. “I’ll make it just how you like it, Akutagawa-senpai.”
“Thank you, Higuchi. But you really don’t-”
“Nonsense! We all want tea, don’t we?” There are murmurs of assent throughout the room. Atsushi can hear Akutagawa sigh audibly, but there’s something fond about it. A kettle starts whistling, and the detectives settle into a comfortable chatter.
Atsushi shifts slightly, suddenly uncomfortable. Akutagawa sounds… happy. The members of the Armed Detective Agency sound kind and friendly and sweet and everything the Port Mafia is not. The office is warm and light. The tea is nice and hot. He remembers, back when Akutagawa first found him, his first intention was not to kill. He was treated with kindness and hospitality. If the positions had been reversed, and Atsushi had found Akutagawa looking at Port Mafia files, he would have embedded claws in his back before he even had the chance to speak. He would have hung Akutagawa’s dead body by the Agency as a message to all who defy them.
Chuuya is light. Chuuya is kind. Chuuya is thoughtful, and funny, and happy, and human. Chuuya does not belong in the Port Mafia. Chuuya does not belong in the dark.
Atsushi is going to have to let him go.
“Alright, well, we have to give Kenji a check-up.” Higuchi says. “Akutagawa-senpai, are you coming?”
“No, I’ll stay here. Paperwork.” He can picture him shaking his head. “Have a good check-up, Kenji.”
“Thanks, Akutagawa-san! See you later!” Kenji’s words feel like sunshine themselves. More chatter and footsteps, and the room is silent again. When Akutagawa yanks the broom closet door open, Atsushi nearly falls on his face.
“You have to go.” He says seriously. “Or else this will get back to Ane-san, or Oda-san, or Chuuya-san. If you’d like, I could-”
“No, it’s alright.” Atsushi doesn’t want to know what he was about to say. Probably something kind, something helpful. Atsushi doesn’t deserve that kind of love.
You’re a monster, Atsushi-kun. Look at Shibusawa-san. Look what you did to him. You tore him apart. You did this.
Dazai is right. Dazai has always been right. Atsushi shouldn’t have come here. He disobeyed the one person who tried to help him and look where it got him. Staring into the confused eyes of a boy he so desperately wants to be friends with. A boy whose world looks like paradise itself. Atsushi knows he would burn if he tried to touch him.
“Goodbye, Akutagawa.” He says with a smile. “I hope, for your sake and mine, we never meet again.”